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Updated: June 14, 2025
Are you shore them three hundred thousand reinforcements will get up in time?" "Quite shore. I've sent 'em word to hurry." "Then we'll have to take them, too." "Time you fellers quit your talkin'," said Brayton, "a major or a colonel may come strollin' 'long here any minute, an' they don't like for us fellers to be too friendly.
Inside of fifteen minutes the three of us was strollin' casual through the front offices. "Glance down the line of lady typists," I whispers to Oakley. "By George!" says he gaspy. "The one at the far end?" "You win," says I. "And you also, my young wizard," says Oakley. "I'll have her sent into my private office," suggests Mr. Robert.
And, honest, I'd done the same if she'd been wall-eyed and toggle-jointed, just for the sake of blockin' off his little game. It wa'n't until a couple of days later, when she shoots over a casual flashlight look as I'm strollin' past, that I takes any partic'lar notice of what a Daisy Maizie she is. There's more or less class to her lines, all right, not to mention a pair of rollin' brown eyes.
"Why, youse damned fool," jeered the Weasel, "d'youse t'ink youse can get away wid dat! Say, take it from me, youse are a piker! Say, youse make me tired. Wot d'youse t'ink youse are? D'youse t'ink dis is a tee-ayter, an' dat youse are a cheap-skate actor strollin' acrost de stage? Aw, beat it, youse make me sick!
Lord Lord, don't I know it! Seems but t'other day I was a fine man o' thirty odd, an' walkin' under the hawthorns all white wi' bloom, an' my wife that was to be strollin' shy like at my side we was kind o' skeered o' one another, courtin' without knowin' we was courtin' ezackly, an' she 'ad a little blue print gown on an' a white linen sunbonnet I kin see 'er as clear an' plain as I see you, Passon! an' she looks up an' she sez 'Ain't it a lovely day, Joe? An' I sez 'Yes, it's lovely, an' you're lovely too! An' my 'art gave a great dump agin my breast, an' 'fore I knowed it I 'ad 'er in my arms a-kissin' 'er for all I was worth!
Pictures of quiet woods and bendin' trees, and a country road windin' tranquilly beneath, up and down gentle hills, and anon a longer one, and then at our feet stood the white walls of a convent, with 2 or 3 brothers, a strollin' along in their long black gowns, and crosses, a readin' some books.
Like here the other day when he comes strollin' out from the private office rubbin' his chin puzzled, stares around for a minute, and then makes straight for my desk. "Well," says he, "I presume you noted the arrival of the prodigal son; eh, Torchy?" "Meaning Ambrose the Ambler?" says I. "The same," says he.
It wouldn't do to be strollin' about Melbourne with the chance of every policeman we met taking a look at us to see if we tallied with a full description they had at the office: 'Richard and James Marston are twenty-five and twenty-two, respectively; both tall and strongly built; having the appearance of bushmen. Richard Marston has a scar on left temple.
"Yes," said grandma; "I see the girls after fellers now, there's that Danby for instance, he's a fine lump of a man, but w'en I was a girl I wouldn't have made toe-rags of a policeman." "Yes, a blessed feller strollin' up and down the street lookin' at his toes or runnin' in a drunk. I say, did you hear the latest about old Rooney-Molyneux?
Suddenly we saw lights ahead in the road and heard the rattle of wheels. It was the stage coming into Jacksonville. It was upon us almost at once. The lights of the lantern made us blink our eyes. We stepped to one side. A voice called out: "Well I'll be damned if there ain't a white feller strollin' with a nigger!" "Shut your trap," said the driver, and the stage rolled rapidly away from us.
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